


Let's Do It

by Keitmeg



Series: Zosan Package [10]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Barebacking, Crossdressing, Explicit Language, Gift Work, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 07:58:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keitmeg/pseuds/Keitmeg
Summary: Follows the events of Bound and Found. (Can also work as a stand-alone). Zoro and Sanji are back to the swing of things. Then Sanji tells him to come to the kitchen a little past their bedtime.





	Let's Do It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PassiveDoor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassiveDoor/gifts).



> Wow. I couldn't find a more original title.  
> Inspired by Nao Tylo -Let's Do It. (Don't watch the clip though, just a friendly advice). 
> 
> I don't usually do this. Make that never, actually. I wrote this for a friend after I learned she'd spent a lot of time contesting my perverseness, kidding. I've never had someone gift a work to me so I can't help but return the favor which is not the point of all this but I can't seem to wrap my head around it. I WAS OVERWHELMED.
> 
> To make up for it, I started working on this soon as I finished reading I Can't Even (so original btw, but can't beat my title).

 

 

 

Sapphire blue, seductive, almost scandalously so, eyes look straight into his with implicit intention; maybe even a little predatory. As though Zoro was his prey tonight to dine on; the good kind of dinning, he purrs in agreement with that thought. And his lips tug up from the corners in a somehow impish smirk; oh crap, he’s about to go all whorish wearing that fucking _dress_ (crimson red, back-revealing mini dress, it’s baggy from the chest but tight around the waist area. When he grinds on the table with his knees parted, it shows some leg). And Zoro is reeling. He feels his cock throbbing at the sight of the blond man, on his hands and knees, squatting, whirling his perky little ass on top of the kitchen table with his tongue lolled out like a dog in heat. The swordsman shuffles on the bench and parts his knees a little so his cock wouldn’t burst under his pants and end this strip show in a horror experience.

Sanji glides that tongue along his upper lip, very slowly, suggestively; fucking torturing his cock, and he prays with all his fibers for some miraculous mercy not to ‘slam the cook on that table and pound his ass’. Sanji’s cock has propped up, ready for action, and has made a garden tent down under the fabric and if it wasn’t for that one telltale, no one would even tell he is a guy. He noticed the rose-red lips, redder than usual. He also noticed the long lashes, longer than usual. He knows the scheming witch of a navigator had something to do with it, and that’s not what makes his skin all itchy, no. It’s the fact that he’s going to owe her because Sanji is obviously putting some serious effort in here and, for once, he looks like he is dying for this too.

Sanji crawls on four to his direction, keeping his bedroom eyes on Zoro’s, and with every movement, his hip peaks protrude and his cock sways and precum splays on the panel. Zoro is humping the air by this point. Sanji bites a part of his bottom lip and pauses at the edge of the table. And very slowly, like he hasn’t been slow enough, the slutty fuck, he sits and starts spreading his legs. Zoro’s eye goes all attentive and searching, tripping to Sanji’s crotch, but the dress is veiling the best part, go figures. He gulps, noisily, so noisily but he can’t bring himself to care. Take the damn dress off if you want to pull off a good show and if you’re aiming to drive him crazy, Zoro wants to holler but the amorous look in Sanji’s eyes render him speechless and gaping, like the idiot he is.

Sanji plants his hands at his side and props his hips up, and then he thrust into the air, fucking himself in the dress. His mischievous, over the top smug face falls and he parts his lips and scowls, the way he always does right before moaning ‘yes, fuck, love your cock.’ And Zoro anticipates what’s about to transpire. Oh he’s anticipating it with passion that could boil these waters of the New World. Sanji, though, remains wordless and only thrusts into the air more. As though sensing some heat rolling off the swordsman, Sanji bring a couple of fingers to his mouth and tongues them long and good, groaning around them.

Zoro _knows_ what comes after that one!

Sanji, just as anticipated, drags his saliva-coated fingers to his rim and thrusts them in. The fucking keen which escapes his lips next should not be legal, not in Zoro’s reality anyway. He knows lowlifes –pirates and marines alike– could ejaculate a fountain hearing the Sunny’s cook keen like that.

 

Zoro grunts, his voice gone gravel with lust. He feels hot. The air is too hot it could melt the Adam Wood. The shameless squelches coming from Sanji’s ass brightens him all red in the face, and he gradually feels his chest cramping; he holds his breath to behold what Sanji’s doing to his ass but then quickly hacks pants if he holds his breath for too long. Even not touching him and not even looking at him at all, Sanji still manages to cause his peace of mind disturbance.

Sanji’s taut arm eventually tires and gives out, bringing his body down and making him slump with a thud and a whine. Zoro doesn’t even register what came after that until he was spinning the blond around and pressing up against his bare back. His heart flutters at the way Sanji makes a silly giggle-huff at the way he’s just been manhandled like a doll. His hand grips one of his fit ass cheeks, roughly brushing his hole with a thumb and Sanji’s ring tenses around the intruding finger.

“If you wanna get fucked so bad, just say the fucking word,” Zoro drones, “you planning to drive me insane before you’re completely satisfied, shitty cook?”

Sanji twirls his hips again, bucking against Zoro’s finger and his hard-on like he isn’t even listening anymore. The way he sways makes his back arch, beautiful porcelain skin on comparatively well-developed muscles, Zoro isn’t sure he is sane to begin with. The heat soars up to his head and he doesn’t know about Sanji, but he’s on the verge here and he’s had enough foreplay as it is. How shamefully fantastic would it be if Sanji made him cum just fucking himself in the dress! So, Zoro, just for the hell of it, hooks an arm around his middle and tags until the two of them land on the bench with Sanji straddling his lap. He presses his two thumbs into Sanji’s shoulder-blades and slips them under the dress; Nami’s dress –for fuck’s sake– and this is the most gratifying he’s been since the reunion.

And he isn’t stopping, he just isn’t. Sanji, that is. He’s rollickingly bucking and pounding his ass on Zoro’s erection with his palms cupping the swordsman’s knees.

“Oh, _fuck_!” Zoro can’t hold in his grunts any longer, his fingers tweak and rub the erect nipples. Is there any sexier than this? One of his hands meanders slowly down Sanji’s chest, his belly and to the cock begging for some attention. Sanji bows his head and the hair slips into two parts, revealing his feverish nape, inviting him to nuzzle or suck or _bite_. He does them all. Why waste a golden chance like this (pardon the pun) and miss on the shivers that course through Sanji. He rumbles on the abused skin and, at the same time, fists the swollen cock and jerks it off.

Sanji’s entire body trembles as he shoots his cum under the dress but it plummets to the floor somehow, thick and hot. He fans on the board chest, assured Zoro won’t deny him the reprieve. He pants, fast and deep. Zoro nuzzles his mouth and nose against Sanji’s cheek, now taking out his hands to properly wind them around the cook.

As though pinpointing the signal, Sanji turns his head to face him, and allows the open-mouthed kiss and the flapping of their tongues.

Zoro’s priority in this is to smear that lipstick off Sanji’s lips.

Surreptitiously, he manages to get his cock out of its nest. He pushes Sanji a little off but the man simply stands up and wobbles towards the table again, dropping on it with a groan.

“Finally,” Sanji sneers, “was starting to worry I wasn’t going to get any tonight.”

Zoro stands behind him, mirroring the sneer, “you’re setting the bar too low, shithead, there’s more than some.”

Sanji tongues at his upper lip again and braces his arms on the table. “Make good on your word, fucktard, I even went and borrowed a damn dress.”

“About that,” Zoro ooh’s, “it’s going next.” Saying so, his hands now work on tearing off the piece of garment under Sanji’s horrified glare. “It feels like I’m fucking the witch, it gives me the creeps.”

Sanji stands bare before him, chin tipping with embarrassment. His mole-scattered skin is slick and covered with Zoro’s meaning of devotion that comes in the form of deeply bruised hickeys all over the base of his neck. There’s cum leaking between his legs and Zoro would like to add his to the mess. He maneuvers him by the back of his neck so that he is facing him with his back again, and he moves his cock against the crack of Sanji’s ass very smoothly. The latter buzzes with excitement and Zoro’s pretty convenient the way Sanji starts rubbing himself against his dick is unintentional.  He’s a fucking goner at this point.

“Zoro,” he hisses with his teeth gritted, “ _Zoro_ , you fucking moron” but all Zoro hears is ‘stop teasing my asshole and just fuck me before the swelling in my dick causes me a penile fracture’. He hums in amusement.

He nudges the head of his dick against Sanji’s rim, and slowly sinks into him. With a small whimper, Sanji closes his eyes to relish the drag of the swordsman’s shaft against his tight muscles; thick and veiny and rock-hard. It’s already been precum-slicked so Zoro bottoming out with his balls against Sanji’s ass happens in a few beats only. Sanji falters to forearms now, eyes still shut. Zoro leans over him, nibbling at his skin and placing light pecks over the sweaty skin. On a different though, he didn’t start this on some half-cocked decision to stop halfway; Sanji needs to realize that as well. He reaches for Sanji’s hair and grips a fistful, and then pulls until Sanji wince and cry.

“Taking a nap, shithead?” Zoro growls, dangerously, “We’re just getting started.”

 

Sanji, fucked-out and spent, burnt to crisps, and bracketed in Zoro’s strong arms, sits up with his hair disheveled and upper body covered with love bites. He spreads the dress Zoro pulled apart into two halves. “I’m screwed.”

“No argument there.” Zoro chuckles proudly to himself with his sexily sleepy voice, and receives a wallop to his head for his so unnecessary trouble.

“If she starts throwing punches, I’m taking you down with me.”

 

 


End file.
